


Faded Memories Still Burn Bright

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes through the things he left behind in his childhood home. For the prompt "the cupboard under the stairs."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faded Memories Still Burn Bright

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for HD LDWS on LJ. JK Rowling owns the world and characters, I just like to play with them.

When Harry left 4 Privet Drive for the last time, he took only what he needed most at that moment. After all, chances were good he might be dead when all was said and done. He’d never returned when the war was done, until he received a letter from Dudley that the house was going to be sold, and that he might want to stop in and collect his weird things.

He nudged open the door to the cupboard under the stairs slowly, the hinges creaking from disuse. It was a time capsule of life during Hogwarts, untouched for a decade since his aunt and uncle didn’t want to go near anything with a hint of magic. Things from sixth year lay at the front of the room, while the back held boxes of things long outgrown.

A small smile twitched the corners of his mouth. He opened his trunk, finding the robes that lay neatly folded at the top and laid them out. Then he climbed over stacks of boxes to find one buried at the back and withdrew a much smaller set of robes. He laid them next to the first set, and stood back to look at them.

Arms slipped around him from behind; Harry leaned back into the heat of his husband’s embrace. “You’ll shock my aunt and uncle.”

“I don’t care,” Draco said mildly. “Why are you looking at faded old robes?”

That same smile twitched again. “They’re significant. First year,” Harry touched the smaller one, then the larger set, “and sixth year.”

“When we met in Madam Malkin’s.” Draco’s expression warmed, and he pressed a kiss to the nape of Harry’s neck. “Bringing them home?”

“To hang with the ones from the third time we met there, seven years ago.” Where they had started fresh, and found new direction for the strong emotions between them.

The robes might be old and faded, but they were the symbol of how they first began. Draco kissed Harry slowly. “Third time’s the charm, as they say. Let’s pack things up quickly. I want to take you home.”


End file.
